The Volkihar Dovakiin
by ChaosSpartan575
Summary: Layla has finally tired of the monotony of Castle Volkihar. So she leaves in hopes of finding where Valerica whisked her best friend Serana off to. Instead while she is passing by Dark Water Crossing, she is captured and roped into a destiny that is long overdue. (I don't own Elder Scrolls, Bethesda does.)
1. Chapter 1

This was an idea of a different origin for the Dragonborn I had. I couldn't get it out of my head so I had to write it. I not sure if anyone else has tried this already. Anyway reviews and criticism are welcome.

Layla found herself staring at the dark stoned ceiling of Castle Volkihar during supper. She looked back at her goblet of blood. She took a sip as she looked around the dimly lit room. There were two long tables on each side of the massive hall with the head table sitting perpendicular to them. The whole room… no the entire castle oozed dark and evil. What else could one expect from a clan of vampires?

She sat on the left on right side toward the head were Orthjolf sat. The big brutish Nord was currently glaring at his nemesis, the High Elf, Vingalmo. She let out a bored sigh. When they first started their little war to overthrow Lord Harkon, it was amusing. As the century's rolled by, it just got monotonous because they never stopped trying to undermine each other. At first she found amusement by toying with them. She sabotaged their plans many times and they would instantly blame the other. It was fun until she realized that she was only adding to the problem and stopped.

She looked at the other side of her where Geran Merathi sat, the dark elf was currently looking over tasks which to assign the lesser court members while taking a sip from his own goblet. Geran was probably the only thing close to a friend she had in this place. While the others conspired against each other, Garen was one of the few who stayed out of politics and simply served Lord Harkon. He currently shook his and ran his fingers threw his blood red beard.

Layla then looked to see some the other members of the court enjoying their meals and talking amongst themselves… more like scheming she thought. Hestla, a nord woman and the castle blacksmith was boasting about her time in the Companions and how being here in this castle serving Lord Harkon was far better than trying to take the scraps the famous fighter's guild had given her. Feran Sadri, another dark elf and the castle alchemist was listening intently and trying to poke holes in the former Companion's stories.

Layla noticed that Harkon wasn't present and small wood elf had let his room carrying an empty tray, his hands shaking. Apparently, Lord Harkon took dinner in his room while obsessing over that stupid prophecy. Ronthil was a brown-noser, plain and simple. He would constantly ask the higher ranker vampires if he could be of assistance. It was annoying really, but Feran seemed to use him the most often when making potions. Grab this, and get that kind of stuff. Layla of course instilled a fear in him the few days after he first arrived. He has never gotten within five feet of her since if he didn't have to.

She leaned back and heard the clash of steel on wood as Fura Bloodmouth bashed a straw dummy with a sword. As the castle weapons master, she refused to be involved in politics as well. She was rather boring though. All she cared about was killing and that was all she talked about. It was rather tiresome after she spoke the woman for any length of time. Layla didn't know how her fellow Nord did it. How she went through life with such a single minded focus.

Layla herself was a Nord, auburn hair and pale skin, even paler since she turned. Being one of the original, or at least close to original members of the clan it was to be expected after all. She wasn't built like Hestla, not that it mattered much as vampires were very strong. She was smaller and more slender and beautiful than most. If anything becoming a vampire only added to it.

When Harkon was a mortal king in Atmora, her viper of a mother had tried to use her as way to move up the social ladder. While she didn't become Harkon's mistress like her mother intended, she did however get a position as Valerica's handmaiden, Harkon's wife. She sighed again, as thinking of Valerica brought forth thoughts of Valerica's daughter, Serana. Serana was beautiful and kind girl. Layla loved her, but the vampire princess only ever saw her as friend. It didn't help that Valerica was always watching her like a hawk whenever her daughter was around her. After Harkon became a vampire as well as Valerica and Serana. Valerica saw fit to reward Layla's service with the dark gift. She served loyally until the day Valerica disappeared taking Serana with her.

Layla needed to stop thinking about the old days, but it still hurt. The night Serana was taken,. Layla had planned to tell her how she really felt. She never got the chance. She got up and walked to Feran's alchemy room. She walked up the stairs where she found her enchanter in a small room that housed many soul gems of varying sizes. She had found her niche as the castle enchanter early on. The little scab, Ronthil was right about one thing, being useful was a good way to earn one's keep around the castle if you planned on being here long term. She knew things about enchanting that the world outside would die for to get their hands on. Of course she would venture the College of Winterhold to see if any breakthroughs were made every once in a while. In disguise of course, mage generally caught on quickly when she would cast a seduction spell upon them.

She heard someone enter. She turned around and saw Ronthil held a bundle of weapons and armor, that Hestla had made this morning. He sat set them in the corner and stood up, "Is there anything else you need Layla?" She didn't miss the quiver in his voice.

"No," was all she said before she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. He bolted from the room as she began her work. Each weapon and piece of armor was custom made for a particular court member. She was thankful for the amount of items she had to enchant. It would keep her busy for the rest of the day at least. She looked at the note that Hestla included as to see what enchantment each piece needed as she went.

**…**

As the years rolled by, and her monotonous routine became even more so. Her thoughts drifted to Serana more and more. One day she sat at the table, hoping that Serana would walk through the main doors and back into Layla's life. It was then she realized something, Serana is never coming back here. It was like getting smacked in the face by one of Hestla's warhammers. That left her one option. If Serana couldn't find her way back or did not wish to, Layla going to venture out and find her. It was not like she was terribly attached to this old decaying castle anyway or its inhabitants.

She stood up abruptly catching the attention of everyone in the room. They all stared at her. She gave a nod to Geran as she walked away from the table. She stopped by the armory, and gathered up supplies. Her armor consisted of studded leather armor with iron gauntlets and greaves. She donned an iron helm with goat horns sticking out either side to cover her eyes so the mortals could not mark her as undead straight off and to keep the sun off her head.

She grabbed a steel sword, and clipped its scabbard to her belt. She grabbed a glass dagger and placed in her boot. When she walked out everyone just looked at her funny. She gave a light wave and walked out the door. The cool Skyrim air greeted her as she walked down the castle ramp into the dingy that could get her across the harbor and to the mainland.

**…**

Skyrim hadn't changed much in since the first era after the Dragons were all killed. It was one the first things she figured out while exploring the land and seeing the people. She searched for clues to Serana's whereabouts and searched old ruins.

While searching the first ruin she had found an old word wall in the dragon tongue. She would have dismissed it if one of the words were not glowing. She remembered hearing strange chanting as she approached and was given an understanding of the word on a different level than before. She already knew the ancient tongue. She studied it back at the castle. This was different, like she felt its pulse more than its simple meaning.

While her search dragged on for a few years she had no idea that she was starting to build a reputation. Mostly she would trade what items she found inside the ruins at local villages. Soon word spread of new Ruin Delver, a successful one at that. As a vampire the attention was less than welcome, but because of her reputation people were more open to talk to her about locations of ancient Nordic burial sites. It was two sides of the same coin she guessed.

One day while passing through Dark Water crossing to reach Arcwind Point, she was caught in an ambush and captured along with some Stormcloaks by Imperial soldiers. She was knocked out quickly, and she woke in a cart heading toward the village of Helgen. She cursed herself for being so careless. However, that was when her day got really interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

Here is the new chapter. There might be some mistakes here there. Anyway reviews and criticism are welcome as always.

Layla ran to Riverwood with the two Nord men she had met there. Hadvar, a Legionary in the Imperial army and Ralof of the Stormcloaks. Their names were helpful as in her head she simply called them the Blond one and the brown-haired one prior to introductions. Layla shook her head. Two childhood friends on opposing sides of the war, it was one thing about Civil wars that made them so bloody, betrayal, or a feeling of betrayal. She had seen it plenty of times in Skyrim's history and it never changed. Speaking of change, dragons had returned to Skyrim. It only added to her problems since escaping Helgen.

Hadvar and Ralof stopped to look at Bleak Falls Barrow up on the mountain side across the river. Layla could have sworn they looked like young boys again staring at that foreboding place. She was actually waiting for one of them to dare the other to go up there. At least she got them to stop talking about the war. That was one of the most grating things that she ever went through. She almost just broke their necks and went on herself, but she opted to tell them there were more important things to worry about. They listened at least.

She cleared her throat, "I think we should move on to Riverwood." They both nodded and continued down the road to the village. Riverwood was your standard village. About a hundred folk living on the side of a river and there were many trees making the town name very much to the point. Town name aside she was introduced to Hadvar's and Ralof's relatives. Ralof's nephew took one look at her.

"You have creepy eyes," he pointed out. _Ah shit!_ Her thoughts screamed her to run or start breaking necks. Luckily, no one took heed of the boy's comment as they were preoccupied with the more recent and pressing issue of a freaking dragon attacking and burning Helgen to the ground. The boy's comment did give her the sense that it would be better to skip town a soon as possible. So when the issue of who would go and warn the Jarl came up, she immediately volunteered.

**…**

Layla took a moment to examine the city of Whiterun, it was the first she had seen it in hundreds of years. While she did leave the castle periodically to see any enchanting techniques had surfaced, her inquiry generally never led her far south, not past Morthal usually. So when she looked at Whiterun, she was surprised as its size mostly. What many people didn't know while the walls were very old, they were a new addition as the original wall never went past what was now called the Wind district. The "newer" wall must have been erected after the Jarl of Falkreath tried to sack the city. Layla was drawn from her thoughts as she heard the sound of battle. She took off and found three warriors fighting off a Giant. Two women, one a Nord and the other an Imperial and the third was a Nord man. While they had it under control she intervened anyway by running and jumping on the Creature's crest burying the imperial sword she looted of a dead legionary into its heart bringing down the giant.

After she wiped off her blade on the giants hide tunic, she was approached by the Nord woman. She was beautiful and had red hair with streaks of warpaint across her face. "Not bad, you would make for a decent shield…" she stopped and Layla smelled the reason why. At least two were werewolves from what she could discern. The two Nord women stared each other down. Uneasy silence was shattered as the man came and stood next to the other nord woman. He was a hulking brute and had a rugged haven't shaved for days look that worked well for him. If they didn't smell like dog then Layla might have been inclined to flirt.

What she could tell from their scent was that they were part of the same pack. Normally Layla didn't find werewolves much of a threat, but this breed was strong. With age came wisdom and Layla was old enough to know better than to tangle with these two. Layla sheathed her blade and nodded, "You were saying something about shields." She said before the young Imperial woman came up unware of the ancient blood feud she stumbled upon.

"Wow, you took that giant down pretty quick, I am sure we would have got it soon but your help is appreciated." The Imperial woman said.

Layla shrugged, "I just figured that the sooner it was brought down the better. I wasn't trying to show off, the giant just left himself open for attack and it wasn't expecting a third party to intervene."

"You seem like a good warrior, if you come to Jorvaskor I am sure you'll be let in, no problem." Layla didn't fail to notice the other two stiffen slightly at the mention of the Headquarters of the Companions. Useful information for later, dangerous too since they knew that she now knew that they were Companions.

Layla nodded uncertainly, "Maybe, but I have business I need to finish up. I doubt I'll get the chance."

"I am sorry to hear that, I guess goodbye for now," the young imperial woman walked away toward the city leaving her alone with the two werewolves.

She looked at them, "I won't say anything if you don't. I have business in Whiterun, so recommend letting your fellows know so there isn't a misunderstanding later. I have to go the Jarl with important business, so hopefully I'll out of town shortly."

The woman nodded in agreement and walked to the city in an uncomfortable silence.

**…**

Farkas was more than happy that Ria had gone on ahead of the trio. When he and Aela walked to the doors of Jorvaskor, they both let out breaths they had both been holding. "I'll tell the old man and Skjor," Aela said as she walked the their rooms. Farkas immediately sought out his brother. He found his twin practicing with Tobar, another Nord in the courtyard. "Tobar, I have circle business to discuss with Vilkas." The younger Nord grumbled and walked away to sit down and cool off while taking a swig of mead. Vilkas and Farkas walked to the end of the courtyard so they wouldn't be heard. "What is it brother? Something happen on the last job?" Vilkas asked. While they were twins, they weren't identical. Farkas was slightly taller and easily stronger. Vilkas wasn't as big, but could still wrestle down a saber cat if he had to, but relied upon his head more than his brother.

"Yes and no, there's a blood sucker in town." Vilkas seemed puzzled, "Ria was with us, even I know that killing a random person in front of a whelp will only lead to questions."

"But there is more to it otherwise you or Aela would have taken care of it later by yourselves and not even bothered to tell the rest of us." Vilkas said.

"This one is ancient, perhaps even a Coldharbor bitch. Don't ask how I know. You'll just have to be in her presence for a moment and your wolf will tell all you need to know." Farkas said while Vilkas rubbed his chin.

"If what say is true, than it may take the whole pack to deal with her if she becomes an issue." Vilkas shook his head in thought, "Did she mention any plans?"

"She stays out of our business if we stay out of hers. From the sound of it her time in Whiterun isn't long term. I let you know so you don't react to her if you pass by her in the street or something."

"Well hopefully your right and she is just passing through, otherwise she we'll be dealt with."

A/N: I am only going to have Layla be one of the following storyline's leaders as Harbinger, Guildmaster, Archmage, or Listener. I know in the game you can have your character be all of them, seriously who has that much time. Anyway I am mentioning this now so I can get more input as I write. I will put OC's in to fill the other roles. So just let me know and what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the wait. I have no real excuse. Reviews and Criticism are welcome.

Layla sat on one of the benches next to the fire in the main room listening to that poor excuse for a bard, what was his name… Mekel… Michel…, whoever butchered one of her favorite songs. The barkeep Holda, kept sending her annoyed looks at she wiped down mugs. Layla had been nursing the same mug all night and she didn't really care. She paid for a room already, and she would be out of Whiterun tomorrow to go to Bleak Falls Barrow. She took a drink of cold mead which she could instantly tell was watered down slightly. While it didn't offer her sustenance like drinking human blood, she could process it through her body. What she wanted in actuality was to feed, but with a pack of werewolves nearby that idea went out the window.

Layla looked up to see that red haired Companion, Aela if she recalled she met outside the city walk in. _Oh, speak of the Deadra,_ she thought as the woman obviously was here for her. The nord woman sat down next her and took the cup that the young redguard woman offered. Layla sighed waiting for the beast to speak first. After the warrior made known she had no intention of the doing so by taking another drink Layla broke the silence between them.

"No hiding in the shadows watching my every move. You are seriously going to sit there and drink not two feet away from me?" Layla asked taking another swig of her own mug.

"That is exactly what I am doing, besides isn't hiding in the shadows your kind's thing?" She said with a smirk, and Layla rolled her eyes.

"I assume that your Harbinger hasn't decided to you know… rawr?" Layla said making clawed hand gesture.

Aela chuckled, "If that were the case I wouldn't be sitting here sharing a drink," Aela said and took another drink. "I also heard you were at Helgen. Care to share?"

Layla chucked dryly, "Oh that. Not much to tell really. A dragon flew down charred some imperials and covered my escape."

Aela shook her head, "Figured your kind would be too stuck up to share a good and _long _story."

Layla let of small huff, "And I figured your kind wouldn't act so damn nervous around one of mine."

"I am not nervous," Aela said haughtily.

"You're not, but as a whole your little group is. What do they call it… pack mentality?" Layla said slyly earning scowl from Aela. Layla finished her drink and let out a fake yawn, "Well I better get to bed. I have to go to delve the ancient tomb over by Riverwood tomorrow. They don't call me Layla Barrow-Hunter for nothing." She got up and walked past Aela. Layla passed a man in a dark black robe.

"Want a drink?" he called out as she walked by.

"Perhaps another time." She said climbing the steps to the Inn's rooms.

**...**

Layla awoke the next morning to a knocking sound on the door. She opened it up to find a young courier standing there in a patchwork leather outfit. He looked tired and nervous like if she didn't deliver the letter in time he wasn't going to get paid… or worse, "Sorry to wake you ma'am, but I have an important message from Riften from Maven Black-Briar herself." Layla took the letter and tipped the courier for his trouble. Layla sighed as she shut the door and opened the letter:

_To a one Layla Barrow-hunter,_

_ I have sent you this letter to inform you that I wish to discuss a deal with you that will benefit us both._

_ Sincerely, _

_Maven Black-briar._

She shook her head after reading the letter. There was only one thing that a rich and powerful woman like Maven Black-Briar could want from her. She tried to recall how she gave what she was away so easily and for the unlife of her couldn't figure it out. Layla lit the letter up in her hand with magic. While she knew that Maven no doubt had the funds or resources, the thought of that woman receiving vampirism made her skin crawl. That last thing Skyrim needed was another Harkon. She donned her newer steel armor that she received from the Jarl as payment for hoofing it all the way from Helgen and walked out of the Bannered Mare.

Once she was out of the gate, she walked casually down the path, until she got to the Honningbrew Meadery. She heard footsteps and turned toward them, expecting to see another yellow garbed Whiterun Guard, but instead she saw Aela who leaned to the side one hip with a grin on her face.

"Still following me I see," Layla said while kicking a small rock into the nearby steam.

"Well, I was told to keep on eye on you so I figured I go with you. You did say last night that you were heading to Bleak Falls Barrow. It reminded me that the Companions were hired to find a Golden Claw for the general store owner in Riverwood."

Layla rubbed her chin, odds were that might be the exact claw she needed to get into the main antechamber of the Barrow. She sighed, "Fine I won't mind if you tag along. Just don't slow me down."

Aela scoffed, "If anything you'll slow me down, old hag."

Layla laughed both at the woman's boldness and the joke itself, "Old hag." She mused as she walked to Riverwood with the werewolf by her side.

**…**

Aela after talking with Layla, she found herself letting her guard down slightly. The vampire was much different than her other kin. Of course upon observing Layla didn't seem to care much for mortal lives. Aela could clearly tell when they left Riverwood that she looked about ready to rip that young boy apart when he dumped a pale of dirty water over her head as she walked out of the Riverwood Trader. It was that reason she now saw the Kodlak's wisdom in keeping an eye on the vampire.

Aela stopped reminiscing about recent events and looked around the old tomb they were currently in. Many of the urns and chests were already broke open by grave robbers over the years. The tunnels had a dark feel that made her wolf nervous. If course Layla seemed to be right at home, as she sucked a bandit who took up residence with his clan, dry in the next room. Aela left her to her feeding, mostly out of respect. She wasn't sure if the vampire would find it offensive or not if she watched.

Layla walked in a few minutes later, "leh, that guy tasted terrible," she muttered.

Aela let out a small laugh and shook her head, "Not your cup of tea I take it?"

Layla huffed in response, but otherwise kept moving.

They continued on until they heard screaming, "Help! Anyone out there HELP!" They ran through the halls into a big room covered in spider webs. A giant orange and green colored frostbite spider propelled itself down in front of them. Layla didn't even bother reaching for her sword and casted two fireballs at the creature. It screeched as the flames covered it only for the screams to die out as Aela jumped on top of it and stabbed her skyforge steel sword behind its skull. It twitched and fell to the ground in a heap of legs. Aela rolled off. Layla was already helping the man out of the cocoon the spider trapped him in. He kicked at Layla's leg causing Vampire to trip.

"Thanks fools," he shouted as he ran deeper into the tombs. Aela made to charge after him, but Layla held her back.

"You're just going to let him get away? He matched the description of the claw stealer." Aela said a little miffed.

Layla smirked, "Trust me," she held of three fingers and counted down.

Three

Two

One

"AAAAHHHHH," a dark elf's scream rang throughout the dungeon followed by quick silence.

"I knew he'd bumble his way into the daugr eventually. C'mon, let's go get that Dragonstone." Aela could now clearly see how Layla got her reputation as she followed the ancient vampire to the next chamber.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the really long delay, a mix of laziness and work were the biggest factors. Again sorry for any mistakes in advance. My beta was unavailable and I wanted to post this really bad anyway. Reviews and criticism are always welcome and appreciated.

* * *

Ch.4

Rain fell upon Riften for the second day in a row. A young altmer woman sitting at the bar of the Bee and Barb noted while looking out the window as she nursed her mug of mead. The bartender, an argonian woman by the name of Taneeva was cleaning out a glass with a semi-dirty rag shook her head at the girl. The high elf found herself wishing that she had more gold for more drink, but she barely had enough for the room for another night. She hoped that the rain would stop by tomorrow so she could move on. She sighed and walked to her room. She thought of ways to make money, but other than prostitution and thievery, none really came to her. She couldn't steal, sure she was quiet, but had zero experience because she grew up noble in the Summerset Isles. She was pretty enough she supposed but, the fact she had considered prostitution at all showed how desperate she was.

What was she doing? She was the youngest in her family and was sent to join the army so she wouldn't be an inconvenience for her mother and five siblings all for being a little cynical of the Dominion's government. Part of her believed that her family was behind her getting sent to Skyrim for her first assignment in the first place to avoid shame.

By the Eight… no she wasn't Thalmor anymore, Nine, she couldn't name a bigger ass end of nowhere than this frozen hellhole of a country. Her brother Lysys, was probably laughing his ass off at that fact or bored now that his little sister wasn't around to jab at with insults about how forgotten and alone she was. She sighed and thought to as how she ended up in this bar. Being ambushed by Stormcloak rebels and faking dead. She had to leave her armor behind, so that they assumed the Nords took her away to be imprisoned or _worse_. It wasn't a bad plan actually. Despite being poor as dirt, she was free, free of the thalmor, her family, and duty. It felt… good.

She got up from the bar and walked up the stairs and into her room and sat on her bed. She pulled out the band holding her long thick golden mane of hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. She would have to cut it soon. She realized she would have to change her name as well, that of course went without saying. Her old name wasn't even given by her mother or father, but by a Khajiit servant by the name of Kajha. Kajha was to closest thing she had to a mother until Lysys made up some lie that got her taken away like many of her friends. Her "real" mother actually seemed surprised she had a sixth child when it happened. It wasn't long before she was sent off to the army to be a brainwashed Thalmor propaganda spouting idiot.

She stood up and propped up a shard of mirrored glass so she could see how to cut her hair properly when a thought stuck her. Most her life had been order this, prim and proper that. Screw that, she'd forego using the blasted mirror, she began cutting without it and when she did pick it up, she gasped. Part of her, the old part, wanted instantly smooth out the uneven parts, but another brought a chuckle to her lips. She began laughing quietly. When she had settled down, she looked again. She smiled, it was perfect. Now that she had a new haircut it was time for a new name.

She thought hard as it wasn't as simple as picking out a new one. It was a new life to go along with it. It had to be something decent. Thunder rolled and she jumped, and looked out the window. The rain picked up and hammered on the building even more. Just then her new name came to light. She got up and climbed down the stairs. She walked straight out the bar's front doors and felt the cold wind and rain fall on her face. After standing for a time in the cold biting rain and wind she heard a voice call out to her.

"Aye Lass it is a wee bit cold out here to be standing around like that," She looked over to see a red haired nord walking toward her.

She shrugged, "Just thinking, my life is very out of order right now," She let out a small chuckle, "Things just aren't going well."

"Aye Lass, I know what that is like," He walked over and leaned on the wall under the canopy. "In fact I think I found something for you that might turn your problems around."

"Oh, what's that?" the altmer asked.

The nord smirked, "First let me introduce myself. The name is Brynolf and I have an opportunity for lass down on her luck." The altmer raised an eyebrow. "Don't look so cynical, meet me by my stall tomorrow around noon, and you'll hear all about it. If not out of curiosity then perhaps a bit of coin."

The altmer thought a moment, she needed coin and it sounded like this Brynolf had something to sell, so she would at least see what this was about. "Alright I'll see you tomorrow then."

"That's the spirit lass," he said enthusiastically, "Now it wouldn't hurt to have a name, I gave 'ya mine now it's only fair."

It was the altmer's turn to smirk. She looked up at the rain falling on her face. She smiled and looked back at the nord, "Rayne, you can call me Rayne."

* * *

Farvos Athrel wasn't a big fan of the Stormcloaks. In fact he'd go as far to say that he hated them which was saying much because he was never the type of man not to truly hate anyone. Most were racists, and those that were halfway decent were blinded by Ulfric's glory chasing. He shook his head as he walked up the stairs of the slum that was the Gray Quarter of Windhelm where all the Dark Elves were forced to live. His job wasn't terrible. He worked at the mill for a decent wage. Chopping firewood and taking it back to Windhelm to fill orders. It got him by, since his parents died. Killed by bandits they were, the Stormcloaks did nothing about it of course. They weren't nords so their deaths were unimportant, at least old Brunwulf Seemed to care. The Nord man a great example of true Nord honor.

As he walked to the mill, he pulled out his knife and began twirling it in his fingertips, trying to continue the practice of dagger play his father taught him. His father was a member of the Morang Tong, a famous assassin's guild out of Morrowind. His mother had always frowned upon such things as she was more of a straight up fighter though being a former fighters guild member.

He put the blade away once he reached the farm. He found the logs ready to cut, and began chopping. A few hours later he had his cart loaded and a new stack to chop for tomorrow piled up. He got the note from Anga which read out the orders to which houses needed them. He rolled the cart back to Windhelm and guards let him through without too much fuss for once. They were probably a bit chilly ing the barracks as of late. Farvos smirked as his little act of payback.

He continued delivering the specified amount for each house. After leaving Brunwulf Free-Winter's home he noticed Idesa Sadri and little Grimvar Cruel-Sea. His breath hitched a bit, Idesa was around his age only having seen twenty winters. He had a crush on the young dunmer woman for a while. Whenever they would talk, he would stumble over his words.

"Hey Idesa, how… are you and Grimvar doing today?" he asked nervously.

"I wanted to play with Aventus Aretino," the young nord almost shouted, "but Idesa won't let me." Idesa sighed heavily.

"For the last time, the boy is cursed, the path he walks is only to his own doom, and if you truly want to play with him it will only lead to your own as well." She chastised.

"What's the lad doing up there anyway?" Farvos asked.

"Preforming the Black Sacrament,"Idesa stated plainly.

Farvos didn't know how the respond to that, his father always talked about the Dark Brotherhood and their strange ways with distain. Farvos thought they were all killed during the Great War.

"Can we go to the Candlehearth hall now? I'm hungry," Grimvar said anxiously.

"Yes we can," she said leading him away.

"See you later Idesa." Farvos said," Maybe..."

"Yeah, farewell Farvos," she said quickly, too distracted by Grimvar tugging on her dress as he dragged her toward Candlehearth Hall.

"…we can get a drink together later?" he finished as she walked away. He sighed. He was going to finish his deliveries for the day when he heard a tapping sound from inside the Aretino house. He had almost forgotten about the boy and what he was practicing. He figured he could talk some sense into the boy and turn him away from this path. He walked up the door and turned the handle, only to find it locked. He grumbled and pulled out his father's lockpicking set which he kept on his person at all times and went about trying to open the lock.

* * *

"You have issues, you have been pinning over the same woman for what… eras? And searching for her throughout the ages in hopes she'll simply leap out of some coffin somewhere into your arms and live happily ever after in some dark and dreary castle for eternity." Aela shook her head as she walked back to Whiterun with the Layla.

Layla frowned, "When you say it like that… well it takes away the luster to a wonderful tale." Her mood was dampened a bit, however she knew Aela was right in some small way. Regardless of her feelings for the Volkithar princess, Serana was out there somewhere alone and probably going insane by herself. She sighed, "Your right to a degree, while I admit I am a bit obsessed, There have been times where I have taken lovers… and not eaten them." she added.

Aela chuckled, "Anyone interesting? Surely you have met many heroes in your travels."

Layla let out a small laugh, "More like Gods." She said looking over to see Aela had stopped and was staring at her.

"Like who?" Aela inquired sensing where Layla was going with this.

"Well you know that ninth god that popped up after the empire formed, I may have met him in an inn after some battle over by the Reach before he came into said godhood." Layla rubbed the back of her neck.

"You slept with Tiber Septim," Aela didn't quite believe it, but the Vampire had no real reason to lie and by her age it was possible.

"That was his name," she snapped her fingers together, "It was a wonderful night and the things he could do with his thru'um," she let out a small sigh, "That is what made the encounter so enjoyable as well as memorable." Layla gave Aela a knowing smirk.

Aela raised her hands in defeat, "Fine I am inclined to believe you. It still seems outlandish to me." Aela resumed walking with Layla. Layla looked down at the Dragonstone she carried under her arm they retrieved from the barrow. It was written in ancient Nordic so she could read it well enough,"How much do you think they will give us for this?"

Aela shrugged, "Enough, but I still have a claw to return to Riverwood. So I'll just claim my share when I get back."

Layla nodded, "I'll make sure to tell that imperial steward to split it between us and you can pick it up later. I will probably be leaving town as soon as the jobs done."

Aela held out her arm, and Layla grasped her forearm, "It was good to meet even if you are an undead blood-sucking leech."

"You're not so bad as well for a wet-dog smelling shapeshifter," they nodded their heads in respect and went on their separate ways.

* * *

"NO NO NO NO! THIS CANNOTT BE HAPPING!" Layla screamed as she beat the rock face of the out cropping that Whiterun sat upon. Despite the blood and rock chips flying past her face she was too angry to feel any pain. Everything since getting that stupid stone had only gotten worse. She stopping beating the rock wall and turned around to lean her back against it. She slid down and buried her head in her knees. She took some time to calm herself, but every time she envisioned the moment where she killed the dragon, it… just made her more furious.

She still remembered the sensation as the amber tendrils of its soul swirled around the fast decaying corpse, before they surrounded her. She remembered the feeling the power and saw some memories. The sensation was pleasant overall but what she was so angry about was the knowledge that for the past millennia she had been dragonborn. A mortal born with the soul of a dragon and could absorb the souls of other dragons. The kicker was being able to master the dragon speak or thur'um instantly without practice, it was an inborn sense as some might say. Thur'um was the magic dragonspeak, the very same language of Akatosh himself. The Thur'um gave one a power like no other.

One that could level whole armies and vanquish vampire lords for example. For this reason she felt only anger and sorrow. If she had known sooner, she could have killed Harkon and kept Serana from being taken away from her all those ages ago. She wanted to yell and curse at the sun, the Father of Time and Space, Akatosh: Her father. What good would that do?

She needed a drink. She got up and searched for a nearby bandit camp. If one thing hadn't changed throughout the eras in Skyrim, it was the occasional bandit camp that preyed on travelers while as the time they themselves were waiting to be preyed upon.


End file.
